A Light From The Shadows
by Murtagh Strikes Back
Summary: In the forests of Mirkwood, a fierce battle rages against invading orcs. In Rivendell, life is slow and peaceful. When a strange Elf is brought, wounded and broken, To Rivendell, Estel's life is thrown upside down as he seeks to befriend the strange Elf.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Nope, none of it belongs to me. I claim full responsibility for the plot, but the characters and settings all belong to Tolkien. I am not making any money from this story, and I have a healthy fear of lawyers. So please don't sue me!

Oh, and a huge thank you to my amazing beta, GreenWoodElleth.

Summary: In the forest of Mirkwood, a fierce battle rages between the Wood-Elves who dwell there, and the invading orcs from the mountains. All is confusion and chaos, and nobody knows who to trust.

In Rivendell, life is slow and peaceful. Fifteen-year-old Estel, forbidden by his foster father to join the war in Mirkwood, grows bored and restless in the Elven sanctuary.

When a strange Elf is brought, wounded and broken, to Rivendell, the two worlds collide and Estel's life is thrown into confusion as he seeks to befriend the Elf. But first, Legolas must learn to trust again.

**Chapter 1**

The evening air was crisp and cool. The trees were decked in the first green buds of spring, and a small stream gurgled nearby. Birds twittered merrily. However, the youth sitting by the stream was oblivious to the beauty surrounding him. He tossed another rock into the water, scowling at the ripples it had created.

Estel was bored. Several days ago, Rivendell had received news of some conflict in Mirkwood. His foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, had set out immediately for the forest, along with most of the other Elvish warriors. He had begged to be allowed to go too, but Elrond had said he was too young, and refused. At fifteen years of age, he thought himself quite mature enough to fight, but nobody would listen to him. Also, he was desperately curious about the Wood-Elves. He had heard much about them from his brothers, but had never met one himself. But despite all his best efforts the party had left Rivendell without him, and he was left at home to pass the time alone.

From the road not far off, he heard the sound of horses approaching. His curiosity immediately piqued, he raced down towards the house, just in time to see his brothers riding in. What were they doing back already? The party should not have even reached the forest yet.

He rushed towards them, then stopped dead in his tracks. In front of Elladan, slumped in the saddle and barely half conscious, was a strange Elf. He was clad in green and brown, though his clothes were torn and bloodied, and his blonde hair concealed his face from Estel's sight. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a Wood-Elf.

He stared at his brothers, hoping for some sign of what was going on. Their faces were grim, their attention focused on this blonde Elf. They helped him off the horse gently, and began leading him towards the house. He stumbled several times, and Estel saw Elladan and Elrohir exchange worried glances.

Suddenly, Elrohir turned and saw his younger brother watching them. "Estel!" he cried. "Go and fetch father." Estel looked at them blankly. "Now!"

Estel quickly hurried inside, and went straight to the library. "Father?" he called, entering the large room. His Elrond was sitting at the table, poring over a large book. He looked up when his foster son entered.

"Estel? What is it?" Elrond asked, looking wearily at Estel.

"Elladan and Elrohir are back," he told him quickly. "There is a stranger with them; a Wood-Elf, I think. He is injured."

Elrond looked momentarily surprised and concerned, then he got quickly to his feet and strode out of the library and around the corner. Estel sighed resignedly. Clearly, nobody intended to tell him anything that night. He made his way back outside, to pass the rest of the evening tossing stones into the stream.

When it grew dark, Estel returned to the house. When he passed the library, he heard muffled voices coming from inside. He hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of him. He pressed his ear to the door and listened intently.

"Where did you find him?" Elrond was asking.

"In an orc stronghold not far from the pass," Elrohir hissed. "He was unconscious when we got there. We nearly mistook him for dead."

"How does he fare now?" Asked Elladan.

"He is sleeping. I tended his wounds as best as I could, then gave him a drug to put him to sleep. I am confident he will be alright."

Elrohir sighed in frustration. "What could they possibly want with him, though?"

"There are two possibilities, as I see it," Elrond replied calmly. "It is unlikely they would have kept him for sport. It is possible that they wanted him for a ransom, but that does not seem probable. I think they wanted information. He could have told them much about Mirkwood's defenses. Incidentally, did he tell them anything?" His voice remained casual, but Estel could detect a note of anxiety.

"I am afraid you will have to ask him when he wakes," suggested Elladan. "But in the meantime, let us go and eat. He will not wake for several hours at least, and I doubt he will be strong enough for much conversation when he does."

Estel heard them get to their feet and come towards the door. Realizing he was about to be caught eavesdropping, he leapt up and raced back around the corner. He sat down quickly on a bench, trying to look as though he had been there for some time.

Elladan and Elrohir came around the corner, and smiled faintly when they saw the young boy.

"Hello, little brother!" Elrohir greeted, embracing him briefly. "How have you been keeping?"

"Very well, thank you," he responded. "Who was the other Elf?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances. It was Elladan who answered him.

"That," he replied, "is Legolas. He is the son of king Thranduil."

"What happened to him? He looked very ill earlier."

Elrohir tensed. "He…ran into a spot of trouble with some orcs. We found him imprisoned in their stronghold."

Estel nodded, though the answer had been far too brief for his liking. What sort of trouble had he run into?"

Elladan sighed wearily. "Come, little brother. Will you join us for dinner?"

Estel followed them, his mind still buzzing with questions. From what he had overheard, there was a lot more to this business than what his brothers were telling him. He pushed his curiosity aside, and tried to relax and enjoy his time with them. There would be plenty of time to answer these questions soon enough.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. Elrond and the twins spent much time in the healing ward, tending to the injured Elf. Estel gleaned what information he could by eavesdropping on their conversations, but could not discover anything that made sense to him.

One evening, he made his way to the dining room for dinner, as he always did. To his astonishment, the blonde Elf was seated at the long table with Elladan and Elrohir. Even to Estel's eyes he looked exhausted, and there was a sort of stiffness to his movements. The three were talking quietly. The twins looked up, and saw their little

brother paused in the door way.

"Come and join us, Estel!" Called Elrohir. He walked shyly over to the table and sat beside his brother, trying hard not to stare at the stranger.

"Estel, this is Legolas," Elladan introduced. "Legolas, our foster brother, Estel."

He looked up at the strange Elf. Legolas smiled faintly in greeting, but Estel noticed a flicker of mistrust in his clear blue eyes. For a moment, an awkward silence fell over the group. Then Elrond entered the hall, and sat down at the head of the table.

"How do you feel this evening, Legolas?" He asked.

"I am well, thank you, my lord," the other Elf replied. Estel raised his eyebrows. Legolas looked anything but well. He had improved since his arrival in Rivendell, but he was still uncommonly pale and weary.

"You do not look well," he said with a shrug. The Elves all turned to stare at him, and he flushed red. The twins and Elrond looked rather awkward, but Legolas looked almost amused.

"Why, thank you, young one." He said, raising an eyebrow. "But I assure you I am fine."

The rest of the meal passed quietly, with little conversation. Eventually, Elrond took his leave, and the twins soon followed. Estel made to leave as well, but he paused when he noticed that Legolas had not moved. Quickly making up his mind, he went and sat back down beside the Elf.

"May I join you?" he asked awkwardly.

"Certainly, if you wish. I warn you though, I am dull company."

Estel was unsure what to say. "You are from Mirkwood, then?" he asked after a short pause. "What's it like there?"

Legolas smiled again. "I could not do it justice," he said. "To strangers, it is a dark, evil place. But it is beautiful as well. You should visit us there one day, when you are older." Estel scowled slightly, and he paused. "Have I said something to offend you?" He looked bemused at his companion's sudden change of humor.

"No," he sighed. "It's just that people are always telling me I am too young to do what I want."

"How old are you?" The Elf asked.

"Fifteen," he replied. "Honestly, I am not a child any more." He frowned again as Legolas gave a very un-Elvish snort.

"I apologize," he said quickly when he saw Estel's face. "It is just that you remind me so much of myself when I was your age. I was always so eager to grow up. Now, I would rather go back to being a child." He paused, seeming to feel he had said too much. "I will return to my chamber now," he muttered quickly. "Thank you for your company." He rose quickly, wincing slightly as his hand flew to his side. Then he turned, and left the room.

Estel stared after him for a moment, a little confused. Then he got to his feet, and made his way back to his own room. All the questions he had been repressing for days flooded now to the front of his mind, and it was many hours before he finally found sleep.

_His hands were bound above his head with iron shackles. He could feel himself trembling. Blood ran freely down his back from the lashing he had received. His body was bruised and aching, and every breath was painful. On the corner of his eye he could see an orc approaching, holding something in his hand. The creature halted in front of him, and he could see that it was a brand, glowing red hot. His eyes widened in horror and fear. The orc leered down at him _

"_Do you know what this is, Elf?" he taunted. He glared up at the foul beast, trying to look defiant despite the wild fear that was welling up in him. _

"_We don't have to do this, Elf. All you have to do is say the word, and I will stop. All your pain can go away, if you just tell me what I want to know." _

"_I have nothing to tell you!" He snarled, raising his chin proudly. He was determined not to show any sign of weakness to his tormentor, regardless of the pain he felt._

_The orc chuckled, delighting in the anguish of the captive. The brand came lower, hovering inches above the exposed flesh of his side. _

_Blinding pain overwhelmed him as the brand made contact with his skin. He could smell the sickening scent of burnt flesh. The orc pressed it harder against his side. He screamed… _

Legolas jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in his bed. Sweat poured down his brow, and he was trembling uncontrollably. His hand moved down to the inflamed mark on his side, and he winced in pain as his fingers brushed the tender wound.

He started as the door creaked open. Elladan stepped into the room. He was dressed in his night clothes, and carrying a candle. His eyes fell on the distressed Elf, and a look of concern flitted across his features.

"Are you alright, Legolas? I thought I heard you cry out…"

Legolas shook his head. "Just a nightmare," he murmured.

Elladan made no move to go. Instead, he came and sat down at the end of the bed. He and Legolas had been friends for many years, and he hated seeing him in such a state.

"Do you wish to talk about it? You know you can confide in me, mellon-nin."

Legolas smiled wanly. "Do not worry about me," he reassured his friend. "All I need is sleep."

Elladan realized Legolas was dodging the question, but did not push the subject. "Would you like something to help you sleep?" he offered instead.

Legolas grimaced. "I hate that stuff. It makes me feel half-dead the next morning."

Elladan nodded. "I know. When I was a child, father used to drug me whenever I had trouble sleeping. I've never been able to take it since."

Legolas laughed lightly. "He has been looking for an opportunity to drug me ever since he first met me. I am sure he has enjoyed the past few days immensely."

Elladan smiled. He had hoped to distract his friend from whatever nightmare he had just had, and it seemed to be working well. Legolas looked more relaxed already, though his face was still paler than it should have been.

"I had best leave now," he stated. "Sleep well, mellon-nin." He turned and walked gracefully out of the room, closing the door behind him. He returned to his bed and lay tossing and turning for nearly an hour, before he too fell asleep.

A/N: Reviews would be nice.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, here's chapter two! There isn't much action in this chapter, but I promise things will start speeding up soon!

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed my last chapter! You guys are all amazing. I'd really appreciate some reviews for this chapter!

Oh, and thanks again to my wonderful beta, GreenWoodElleth. Without her, this story would be barely worth reading!

**Chapter 2**

After Elladan left, Legolas got out of bed and walked out onto the small balcony adjacent to his room. The stars shone brightly in the cloudless sky, casting a pale light over the woods surrounding the house and reflecting off the shining silver surface of the river. A cool wind blew, whipping his blonde hair back off his face. He leaned wearily against the railing, gazing out at the dark valley.

He was tired of this. Tired of the nightmares that had plagued him ever since arriving in Rivendell. Tired of the memories that continued to emerge unbidden whenever he closed his eyes. Tired of his physical weakness, and the fragile state of his body that was still not fully healed.

He frowned, glaring down at his pale hands in annoyance. He was a warrior, not a helpless elfling who would succumb to his fears like this. Dwelling on the past would only lead to more grief. Still, he knew he would find no more sleep that night. Feeling ashamed and disgusted with himself, he slipped down over the railing of the balcony and dropped to the ground, landing steadily on his feet with agility born from a lifetime of springing out of trees. He made his way down the path and out into the forest, to wait out the long hours until dawn.

Thranduil sighed as he sat on his throne, staring up at the high roof, lost in his own thoughts. At any moment, the Rivendell elves were expected to arrive in the stronghold. Their arrival in Mirkwood was anticipated by all, as the situation was worsening.

The orcs had kept up a steady attack on the Elven kingdom. The raids were now coming at least twice a week, and the losses were steadily mounting. Patrols of warriors were being sent out to guard the borders of the realm, but they could not keep at bay much longer the endless hordes of orcs that continued to arrive despite the best efforts of the Silvan elves to stem the flow. As their peril grew greater, his people were beginning to lose faith. And, on top of everything, Legolas was missing.

Thranduil felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought of his son, but he swallowed violently and forced himself to maintain the calm, authoritative masquerade he had worn since the beginning of the attacks. Several weeks ago, Legolas had led a patrol out into the forest at his father's bidding. Ordinarily, the patrols were a routine affair. However, this time, something had gone disastrously wrong. Mere days after the patrol had departed, three Elven warriors had staggered back to the stronghold, all gravely wounded. They told the king that the patrol had been waylaid by a large band of orcs. The Elves were quickly overwhelmed by the numbers, and were slain mercilessly at the hands of their foes. Legolas, however, was surrounded and cut off from the rest of the group. Despite his valiant efforts, he was finally overcome, and the orcs dragged him away.

Now, three weeks after the attack, Thranduil was losing hope of ever seeing his son alive again. He longed to send out a party to search for him, but his duty to his people forbade it. Mirkwood was crumbling slowly, and they needed every warrior in the forest to be there. They simply did not have the numbers to send out a search for the prince. There was nothing to be done but wait, and pray to the valar for the best.

Suddenly the doors of the hall grated open, jolting Thranduil from his dark thoughts. The Rivendell Elves had arrived, and several of their leaders were now filing into the room. After the initial greetings had been observed, the newcomers wasted no time in bringing Thranduil up to date on current affairs around and outside the forest. He listened attentively, pushing all thoughts of his son aside for the moment. He would have plenty of time to grieve once this war was over. Right now, his people needed him.

However, shortly another Elf swept into the room and greeted the king. It was Erestor, chief councillor of Elrond. He greeted Thranduil briskly, before embarking on his tale.

"I have news of your son, my lord," he began.

Thranduil blinked, stunned. "My…my son?" he stammered, staring at the other Elf.

"He was found, alive and imprisoned, in an orc stronghold near the pass. The sons of Elrond found him, and took him back to Imladris."

Joy and disbelief began to bubble in Thranduil's chest, and he struggled to keep his composure. "He is alive, then? How is he?" he asked eagerly.

Erestor dropped his eyes, looking a little uncomfortable. "Not very well, your highness," he admitted at length. "When we found him, he was badly wounded and too weak to stand unaided. It would seem he was…" The Elven lord trailed off, staring determinedly down at his feet. He had always hated this part of his job.

Thranduil felt his euphoria replaced by horror and fear for Legolas. "He was tortured, wasn't he?" He managed to choke out.

Erestor bit his lip, uncomfortable. "Yes, my lord." It was all he could think of to say.

Thranduil closed his eyes. He had hoped that Legolas would never have to endure such a horrific ordeal. He had always promised himself that he would protect his son at all costs. He felt somehow responsible for this, as though he should have been able to prevent it from happening.

"Perhaps you should consult my captains," he said tonelessly. "They will brief you on the state of things here. Galion will take you to the conference room." He called for his butler, who was at his side in an instant. Galion led the Rivendell Elves away, and Thranduil was once more left alone in his throne room, his mind in turmoil.

The next morning, Estel woke early and, finding he could not get back to sleep, went for a walk out in the forest. He wandered aimlessly about for a while, enjoying the fresh morning air. He began to play a game, pretending he was an Elvish warrior, sneaking through the trees in pursuit of deadly and dangerous foes. He crept along as noiselessly as he could, until he reached a small glade. Drawing his imaginary sword, he stood against his non-existent foes in a fierce battle. He fought long and hard, but eventually managed to slay the last of his enemies. Wiping the imaginary blood from his sword and sheathing it, he continued his stealthy trek through the woods.

Shortly, he came to the stream. To his surprise, he found that he was not alone in the woods that day. Sitting still and silent on the banks of the creek, facing the water, was Legolas. He did not turn around as Estel emerged from the trees, but spoke quietly with his back to him.

"What are you doing out here at this hour, Estel?"

Estel jumped. "How did you know it was me?"

Legolas gave a short laugh. "Who else could have made such a racket approaching?"

Estel flushed. "I was trying to be quiet," he said defensively.

"I know."

Estel stood there awkwardly, shifting from side to side. Why was Legolas so hard to talk to? It was as though he did not want company. Still, Estel did not leave. Legolas was a guest in their house, and it was his duty to be hospitable and friendly. Besides, he was still immensely curious about this strange Elf, and wanted to learn more about him.

"Why are you out here so early?" He asked at length. "The entire household is still asleep."

Legolas shrugged slightly, and Estel did not miss the stiffness in his shoulders. "I like the mornings," he replied. "When all is peaceful, and I have a chance to be alone with my thoughts for a while."

Estel bit his lip. "I despise the mornings," he muttered. "Getting out of bed is always so hard. I definitely prefer the evenings."

"What drove you to rise so early this morning, then?" Inquired Legolas.

"I could not sleep," Estel complained. "I assure you, I would much rather be in bed if I weren't so restless."

Legolas rose to his feet. "It must be nearly time for breakfast," he said decidedly. "Should we perhaps begin to make our way back to the house?"

The two walked along in silence together. When they reached the house, they found Elladan waiting impatiently outside for them.

"Where have you been?" He asked Estel. "Ada has been searching for you all morning. What possessed you to rise so early this morning? It is not like you." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Estel mumbled something incomprehensible, and plodded off to find Elrond.

Elladan turned to Legolas. "I see he has been keeping you company."

"He is a strange lad," Legolas mused thoughtfully. "So quiet and shy."

Elladan snorted. "Estel, quiet and shy? I have met drunken dwarves quieter and shyer than he!"

Legolas shrugged indifferently. "Well, he always seems nervous when he is around me."

"Perhaps it is you that makes him nervous."

"Truly? I do not mean to."

Elladan rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "Come. Let us go and get some breakfast."

Legolas shook his head. "I am not hungry. You can go."

Elladan eyed the prince suspiciously. "You have hardly eaten for days. Surely you must be hungry by now?"

Legolas bit his lip and made a attempt at humor. "Perhaps your constant fussing is killing my appetite."

"Legolas-"

"Just go and eat, Elladan. I am going for a walk, I will eat if and when I am hungry." He replied, instantly somber. He turned on his heel and walked away. Elladan stared after him for a second, confused, before sighing lightly and making his way back to the hall for his breakfast.

In the hall, he found Elrohir already seated, enjoying a hearty breakfast. Elladan sat down on the bench beside his brother, smiling slightly in greeting.

"So, where has Estel been all morning?" Elrohir asked. "Did you find him?"

Elladan nodded. "He and Legolas have both been out in the woods. I don't know what possessed him to rise so early." After a pause, he added. "Legolas is going insane trapped in the valley."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow. "When has Legolas not been insane?" he asked with a slight smile. When his brother did not respond, he sobered up a little. "It isn't as though he has a choice. Like it or not, he cannot leave Imladris until he has recovered properly. There is no way father is going to hear of his leaving in his current state. He would not be able to defend himself properly."

"Perhaps if we went with him?"

The suggestion caught Elrohir completely off-guard. He turned to stare in disbelief at his twin, who was looking back at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"We were planning to go to Mirkwood anyway," Elladan explained. "Why not make our trip several weeks earlier? Legolas will have no peace of mind until he is back in the forest. Come, brother, do not gape at me like that! Besides, if we continue to keep him here, I am afraid he might decide to do something stupid."

Elrohir was still uncertain. "Will father allow it?" He asked, chasing a piece of egg around his plate with his fork, a dubious expression on his face.

"He can hardly oppose us. If we are with him, there is no reason why Legolas should not make the journey home. He is well enough to travel by now; the only real risk was that he would be unable to protect himself if he were attacked. If we go, that risk is irrelevant."

Elrohir sighed, defeated. "Very well," he consented. "I warn you though, it is dangerous. If we die, I will kill you."

Elladan smiled victoriously. "Aye, brother, I have no doubt." Elladan replied dryly with a wink. "I shall go and inform father of our plans," he said. Rising from the bench, he strode out of the room. Elrohir raised his eyes to the heavens, exasperated. Between Legolas and his rather reckless brother, he doubted he would get a moment's peace for the whole trip.


End file.
